


ONE NIGHT IN GRAND RAPIDS

by Anne_Carter



Series: One Night [20]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Carter/pseuds/Anne_Carter
Summary: Dean was ignoring the voice in his head.  Because appearing from the mists of their shared past was the Seth Rollins who had been his brother in arms.  This was the man he would always go to war for…or with…or even against.  This was the brother he’d missed…and had wondered if he’d ever see again.Events on RAW 2/11/2019





	ONE NIGHT IN GRAND RAPIDS

It was easier than he thought it would be. The cold weather helped. He stood huddled next to one of the large WWE trucks that carried part of the staging, wearing a heavy hooded jacket. No one paid much attention to him because it was too cold for people to be coming outside for a break.

When he saw the door slowly open, he stepped around the truck and carefully peered back. He saw a familiar face peering looking around and stepped away from the truck. The expression on the face didn’t change but a beckoning hand motioned for him to come forward.

Quickly, he ran for the door and slipped inside the building. As he gently closed the door behind him, the other figure began walking away. He grinned to himself and followed, stopping when the other figure stopped to carefully check the hallways. Finally, they reached a closed door which the other figure opened and beckoned him forward.

Down a dimly lit hallway to stairs. Down the stairs. Down another hallway then turning into a room that was only slightly better illuminated than the hallway.

“Home Sweet Home,” the other figure chuckled.

Roman Reigns flipped the hood away from his face and looked around. _‘Yeah, the Shield was right at home here.’_ He saw the TV monitor already hooked up, a hand-held camcorder, paper, markers, several bottles of water and snacks. There was even a folding chair that the other man had managed to bring down to this room. He glanced at the other figure. “Think nobody’s gonna miss the camera and monitor?”

Dean Ambrose shrugged. “They’ve got tons of equipment. Nobody keeps track of the small stuff.” He leaned against the wall as Roman removed his jacket. “He’s already here,” he spoke. “Plans on going to the ring to talk about his match with Lesnar.”

“Is Lesnar showing up?” Roman worriedly asked.

Dean snorted. “You expect another appearance by our piss-poor part-time champ? I doubt we’ll see him until just before ‘Mania.”

“Unless Seth pisses him off,” Roman grinned. “He’s good at that, you know.”

“No shit, Reigns.” Dean couldn’t help but start to smile.

Roman walked over and hugged Dean. “It’s good to see you,” he quietly spoke.

Dean hesitated, then returned the hug. “I’m glad to see you, Roman,” he murmured. After a moment, he pulled away. “Whatever you’re gonna do to mess with Rollins’ head, don’t mess him up too much. I heard Heyman’s gonna be here. He’ll need a clear head to deal with him.”

Roman nodded. “You’re fighting EC3?”

Dean nodded. “The storyline with me and Nia got cancelled. Apparently, some of the advertisers didn’t like the idea.”

“I know you didn’t like it, but Nia was looking forward to being in the ring with you,” Roman explained.

Dean shrugged. “Maybe another time. Another place.” He glanced around. “Better go. Need to get back upstairs before a lot of people show up. Wouldn’t do for people to wonder why I’m down here.” He turned and walked away.

“Dean.”

Dean hesitated, then stopped. He partially turned around but didn’t meet Roman’s eyes.

“Whatever happens, this…you and me…this doesn’t end,” Roman quietly announced.

Dean’s blue eyes flickered to Roman for a few seconds. He silently nodded in agreement then walked away into the shadows.

Roman sighed in frustration then sat down on the chair and reached for paper and a marker.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Seth Rollins leaned against the wall in catering and watched with several others as Kurt Angle stepped into the ring. Bayley began a soft chant of “Let’s go, Kurt” that made Sasha Banks nearly double over with laughter.

Seth watched the match with an analytical eye. Kurt might not be as quick or as strong as in the past, but he had more than a few tricks up his sleeve. _‘Old age and treachery’_ , Seth chuckled to himself. He felt his phone buzz and glanced at the display to see an unknown number with a video message. Curious and knowing this may not be a good choice, he walked away for privacy and tapped the screen to open the video.

He frowned when he saw what looked like a storage room as part of a hand picked up what he figured was a hand-held video camera. The camera appeared to be clumsily moving around the area. He could dimly hear the RAW commentators in the background so whoever was handling the camera obviously was also watching the show. All in all, it eerily reminded Seth of the Shield’s early video promos. Then the camera focused on a piece of paper lying on the seat of a folding chair. Written in bold block letters were the words “GOT YOUR BACK”. The camera focused on a monitor where Seth could see Kurt suplexing Corbin practically out of his boots. Then the screen went dark.

“What in the hell?” Seth muttered to himself. He looked up to see Dean sauntering out of catering. The other man didn’t say a word or even look in his direction…but Seth could have sworn that for a half-second Dean glanced at him from the corner of his eye…and that one blue eye was twinkling. “What in the hell?” he softly repeated.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Drew McIntire watched as Bobby Lashley helped Lio Rush down the corridor towards the trainers’ offices. He was furious after another loss. _‘Kurt Angle’s just too stupid to give it up.’_ He glanced over his shoulder to where Kurt was surrounded by Bayley, Sasha, and Seth Rollins. All were congratulating the older man on his win. They were joined by Braun Strowman and Finn Balor.

“Can’t believe Rollins is getting the title shot at Wrestlemania,” McIntire grumbled. “Look at him. He can hardly stand up straight.”

Baron Corbin’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll be standing up straight when ‘Mania gets here,” he sourly predicted. He glanced at McIntire. “He’s not as weak as you think.”

“Weak and fragile,” McIntire scoffed. “The Shield used to run the locker room because the locker room was weak. Now that it’s a little stronger, they’ve folded like the weaklings they are. Reigns is sick. Rollins is broken. Ambrose is running away.”

Corbin shrugged. It wasn’t worth arguing about. He silently walked towards catering, ignoring the group standing around Kurt.

McIntire snarled and walked down the hallway towards his locker room. He was watched by a pair of cold blue eyes.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Dean stood in gorilla and watched the monitor where Paul Heyman was giving Seth enough back-handed comments that would make a man’s head spin. Then Heyman began praising Brock Lesnar’s destructive abilities. Dean rolled his eyes when Heyman said the words ‘suicide mission’. _‘Like that’s gonna make Rollins shake in his boots.’_

But then he saw the look in Seth’s dark eyes. It was a look he hadn’t seen in years.

“You know what, Paul? You’re right. But what you don’t seem to understand is I. Don’t. Care. Brock Lesnar has held this industry, the industry that I love more than anything in this world, has held it hostage for two long years; and I will not stand for it anymore. So, I do not care if Wrestlemania is a suicide mission because I will be that martyr, Paul, I will be that martyr. I will sacrifice everything. I will sacrifice my body. I will sacrifice my heart. Paul, I will sell my soul to the devil. I will burn in hell if it means sure Brock Lesnar doesn’t leave Wrestlemania as the Universal Champion.”

Dean watched in wonder as Seth slightly smiled.

“And Paul, that is not a prediction. **That** is a spoiler.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Watching in the bowels of the building, Roman let out a low whistle. “I’ll be damned.” Then he slowly smiled.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Dean ignored Heyman as he walked back through gorilla. He looked at the sound technician.

“I know. Hit your music.”

As his music began to play, Dean walked out onto the stage.

_‘Whatever you’re planning, it’s probably not a good idea. We’ve done one good deed tonight and had some fun at that moron’s expense. We’re really gonna do this? Oh, hell, you’re not even paying attention to me, are you?’_

Dean **was** ignoring the voice in his head. Because appearing from the mists of their shared past was the Seth Rollins who had been his brother in arms. This was the man he would always go to war for…or with…or even against. This was the brother he’d missed…and had wondered if he’d ever see again.

He stood in the ring, holding his hand out for the microphone as the crowd grew silent. He saw the confusion and wary caution in Seth’s dark eyes as he handed over the microphone.

“I’ve only got one thing to say to you,” Dean growled. He held Seth’s eyes with his own. “Slay the Beast.” He dropped the microphone and rolled out of the ring. As he took a seat ringside to wait for his own match against EC3, he saw Seth staring at him. In fact, Dean could almost see the wheels turning in Seth’s usually over-active brain. Then he saw the half-smirk half-smile Seth gave him just before he turned to leave the ring.

Message sent. Message received.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Watching in the bowels of the building, Roman let out another low whistle. “I’ll be damned again.” Then he loudly laughed as he placed a sheet of paper on a packing crate.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Another video. From the same unknown number. The hand-held camera jerkily moving until it focused on a sheet of paper lying on a packing crate. In the background he heard Dean’s match with EC3.

“SOME PEOPLE JUST DON’T LEARN.”

“I take it Dean’s entrance was off script.”

Seth closed the video message and slid his phone into his pocket as he looked at a smiling Kurt Angle. “What do you think?” he asked with a slight grin.

Kurt chuckled. “Things might start getting a little more interesting around here.” He nodded towards the monitor where Dean had just pinned his opponent. “Kid got over confident.”

“I hear a lot of that going around,” Seth drawled.

**“THERE THEY ARE!”**

Both Seth and Kurt turned to see McIntire, a fresh bruise on the left side of his face, furiously stalking towards them. Triple H tugged him back with a hand on his arm.

Seth automatically stepped in front of Kurt who calmly looked at Triple H. 

“Is there a problem?” Kurt quietly asked.

**“Problem?!”**

“Enough!” Triple H snapped at McIntire. Then he looked at Kurt and Seth. “Somebody jumped McIntire in his locker room. Again.” He took a deep breath. “McIntire feels one or both of you might have been involved.”

“Trust me, McIntire, I don’t need to jump you from behind,” Seth snorted.

“When did this…attack occur?” Kurt calmly asked.

Triple H shrugged. “Fifteen…maybe twenty minutes ago.”

“I was in the ring,” Seth wolfishly grinned. “The entire WWE universe saw me there.”

Kurt shrugged. “I was talking with Vince about that time.” He and Triple H exchanged silent looks. “And hitting someone from behind isn’t my M.O.”

“Where was Balor?” McIntire demanded.

Both Seth and Kurt shrugged. 

“Can’t say for sure, but he was headed for the trainers’ room when I left to go to the ring,” Seth explained. “They wanted to take another look at his ribs. Doubt it was him.”

McIntire took a step towards Seth, but Triple H held him back. He saw Dean walking down the hallway towards the locker rooms. “What about Ambrose?”

Seth started to say something, but Kurt nudged him to stay quiet.

“Ambrose! Got a minute?” Triple H called out.

Dean shrugged and walked towards them. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Where were you about fifteen or twenty minutes ago?” Hunter casually asked.

Dean saw the bruise on McIntire’s face and smirked. “On my way to gorilla. I stopped to talk with Nia and Tamina. We had a few…words about that storyline being cancelled. Wasn’t wearing a watch to tell you the exact time but I was in gorilla while Heyman was out there rambling on and on about how Lesnar’s gonna tear Rollins to pieces.”

“They’ll just lie for him,” McIntire seethed.

“Hey!” Seth stepped forward only to have Kurt pull him back.

“I’ll talk to both Nia and Tamina,” Triple H assured him. “But unless you have a reason to think those two would lie to protect Ambrose…” He ignored the snorts from Kurt, Seth and Dean and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get to the trainers’ room and have them check you out.”

McIntire glared at all of them. “Next time, Helmsley…next time I take matters into my own hands. This is your last chance.” 

The four men watched as he stomped down the hallway.

“We done here?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.” Triple H gave him a sharp look. “Congrats on your win.”

Dean grinned and walked away.

“McIntire’s not exactly well liked in the locker room,” Kurt quietly pointed out. “He’s made a lot of enemies and not just in the ring.”

Triple H took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks for not escalating this.”

“No problem,” Kurt smiled. He nudged Seth who muttered, “Sure.”

Triple H gave him another look then followed McIntire.

“May I make a suggestion?” Kurt asked. When Seth nodded, he continued, “Get your stuff and leave before McIntire gets done with the trainers. He’s on a short fuse, and he’ll go for your back.” He put a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “It’s not running, Seth. It’s being smart.”

Seth blew out a deep breath. “Fine. Yeah, you’re right. What about you?”

Kurt chuckled. “I’m just waiting for Braun to finish a photo shoot. Then we’re going out for some drinks. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Okay, I’ll leave if you go down to where they’re doing the photo shoot,” Seth offered.

“Deal.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Seth had just grabbed his backpack and stepped into the hallway when his phone buzzed. He leaned against the wall and pulled out his phone. 

Another video message.

This time the camera was focused on a sheet of paper. “MEETING IN THE BOARDROOM. NOW.”

“Boardroom? What the fuc…” Seth’s dark eyes widened.

The hand-held camera. The jerky movements. The dim lighting. The packing crates.

Someone was sending him videos from deep within the building. Where the Shield used to create their video promos. The question was who?

Even as Seth began walking through the building, he began eliminating people. Kurt? Not his style. Balor? Possibly, but there was no reason for it. Sasha and/or Bayley? Not their style and no reason.

Triple H.

Seth paused. If it was Triple H, then he could be walking into a trap. Lashley and Corbin could be waiting for him. But the messages didn’t make sense unless they were to lure him into a false sense of security.

“Fuck this,” Seth irritably muttered. He found the door he was looking for and opened it. He paused and left his backpack at the top of the stairs before quietly descending. If he remembered correctly, down the hall and take the first right…

When he made the right turn, he saw a flickering monitor sitting on a packing crate and slowly walked closer. He heard the sound of a chair moving slightly across the concrete floor and spun around.

“Kinda jumpy, aren’t you, little brother?”

“Roman?” Seth’s dark eyes widened at the sight of his oldest brother. **“Roman!”**

Roman laughed, catching Seth in a deep hug. “Had to mess a little with you.”

“You’ve been down here the whole night?” Seth mumbled against the older man’s chest.

Roman caught a glimpse of Dean in the shadows and beckoned him forward with a wiggling of his fingers. He wasn’t surprised when Dean looked away then disappeared back into the shadows.

“How…”

“Stayed over in Pittsburg then flew in. I slipped in here earlier,” Roman admitted. “Had help getting in and setting this up.”

Seth stepped back and raised his eyebrow.

Roman smiled and shrugged in answer to the unspoken question.

“You got a new phone just for this?” Seth grinned.

“New phone for Jojo,” Roman admitted. “Gave it a test run with you.”

“Okay, I get it. You wanted to mess with me. But you didn’t need to hide down here,” Seth pointed out.

“Not ready to answer a bunch of questions from people however well-meaning they are. Kinda got burned out on that in Pittsburgh,” Roman quietly answered.

Seth nodded in understanding. “You got a room here?” 

Roman shook his head with a laugh. “Was kinda hoping to bunk in with my little brother. Suitcase is in my car. I can follow you to your hotel.”

“Marriott Downtown. Room 502. I checked in earlier.” He watched Roman turn the monitor off then turned to lead the way back upstairs. “We can put your suitcase in my car, and I’ll take it up. There’s a coffee shop next door. You can get into the hotel from there and up the stairs.”

“Fifth floor, huh?” Roman mock sighed.

“So take the elevator from the second floor, you baby,” Seth teased.

At the top of the stairs, Roman glanced over his shoulder and down the stairs but saw no one.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Roman pulled out his phone as Seth rolled Roman’s suitcase towards his car. He sent a quick text message of _“Marriott Downtown. Room 502”_. Then he pocketed the phone. He hoped Ambrose would show up if only for a few minutes. But he seriously doubted it.

The time just wasn’t right for a Shield reunion.


End file.
